The Mountain chat: Lessons learned from our new home town | OPINION

We “discovered” Asheville a few years ago, like so many others who will read these words. We found ourselves returning more often and staying longer. About a year ago, we made the great and wise decision to become permanent Ashevillians. It’s a decision we have celebrated every day since moving – the mountains are a place apart, and people who live here appreciate that.

Still, any relocation comes with surprises and adaptations. We thought we knew Asheville pretty well, but upon becoming residents, we learned something new that would take on importance as we settled in.

I am referring to The Mountain Chat. Allow me to explain.

We moved here from metro Washington DC. In that area, things tend to take on a sense of urgency almost organically; time is money, and people tend to focus on the matter at hand pretty quickly. It was a lifestyle we were comfortable with, one we recognized as productive.

When we moved to Asheville, we had a number of settling in business transactions to carry out. We needed to buy a car; we wanted to connect with a lawyer for a range of legal matters, we were in the hunt for a tax preparer, and we wanted some financial advice. We asked around, did some research, and found good prospects for each role.

The first of these was the car dealer. We had communicated online and by phone and had pretty well settled matters before we ever met in person. Our vision of the meeting is that we would all introduce ourselves, we would be offered a beverage, we would exchange pleasantries for a minute or two, and we would settle our business. Out in 30 minutes, tops.

As it happened, the pleasantries moved on to where our families were, what “mountain people are like,” grand kids, the relative value of pick-up trucks vs SUVs, traffic, weather, the state of farming in the area, etc., etc., etc. More than an hour and a half later, we left, thinking to ourselves, “nice people but the conversation sure wandered.” We chalked it up to a natural tendency to talk and the desire of a car dealer to make a connection.

But then, essentially the same thing happened with the tax accountant, the investment counselors, the lawyer – with pretty well everyone we spoke with for the first time. We even observed and took part in similar discussions in line at the supermarket. This was going on everywhere.

At first, in all candor, we were a bit perplexed and a bit impatient (“Don’t these people have things to do?”). Then, slowly, the light came on. People around here mostly think of Asheville as a city, but for many of us, it’s more of a large town, and things like the mountain chat are natural components of life outside large cities. We came to refer to this phenomenon as the mountain chat. It seems to us that It is very much a part of our culture here, likely preserved from earlier times when Asheville was a small town. Its function is simple. It is designed to allow people to get to know each other as individuals and/or as members of a given group. We get some feeling for who we are dealing with before doing any business or volunteer work together or just spending some time together by accident.

Once we understood it, we embraced it. It’s brilliant, and it puts priorities in the right order. It feeds community and builds connections, a process that is rather thin in our country these days. Now, we are full-fledged mountain chat participants. We look forward to them, whether talking with a food server or a CEO – the process and the objectives are the same.

One of my early mountain chats was with a guy at the next gas pump. We talked for a few minutes, enjoyed each other’s company. Then I noticed his bumper sticker. Had I seen it first, we would have never had the chat, for surely, we had nothing in common. In a lot of important areas, that was surely the case, but as luck would have it, we did not know of our division and found things to talk about and agree upon. It’s a lesson I try to keep in mind in these harshly divided times.

People in and around Asheville have decided that a little time and energy expended in getting to know each other is a solid investment, and a pleasure to exercise. I cannot imagine doing otherwise now.

So, if we have not met as yet and we do in the future, expect to take some time doing so. We are going to have a mountain chat.

Bill Clontz, his wife Meg, and their good dog Lizzie became Asheville residents in 2017, after years of being lingering visitors. Bill is a retired Army officer, former international business VP, and former consultant to non profits on stewardship and leadership development. Since moving to Asheville, he has been an active participant in the Sierra Club and Habitat for Humanity. He wakes up every day thinking how lucky he is to be in this community. His blog may be found at agentsofreason.com